The Hulk And The Waitress
by ozhawk
Summary: While I was watching Scorpion (my new favourite TV show – geniuses and totally implausible plots, yay!) and I thought: well, who IS Ralph's father, then? Because perhaps the boy got his brains from his dad!
1. That's Paige

**I think this is the first Avengers/Scorpion crossover!**

**It's something about all that genius in one place. It would just be SO MUCH IMPROVED by the addition of some Stark snark. **

**Anyway, this came about while I was watching Scorpion (my new favourite TV show – geniuses and totally implausible plots, yay!) and I thought: well, who IS Ralph's father, then? Because perhaps the boy got his brains from his dad. (and I'm disregarding the fact that since I started writing this, his baseball-player dad entered the picture. No. Just no.)**

**Voilà! Plot.**

**And fluff.**

**You don't really need to have watched Scorpion to get it, though maybe taking in one episode would help. Or reading a Wiki summary. Put simply, Paige is a waitress who gets suckered into working for a team of geniuses, let by Walter O'Brien, who have difficulty relating to the real world. In exchange, they teach her how to relate better to her genius son, Ralph.**

**Chapter One.**

_Avengers Tower_

Bruce rarely watched the news. It was just so damned depressing. Too often there were stories about injustice and suffering and humanity just generally being rotten. It brought the Other Guy way too close to the surface. He relied on the other members of the team – mainly Clint, who liked to hang out in his lab, for no reason Bruce had ever been able to fathom – to keep him vaguely up to date on anything happening in the world that he might need to know about.

So it was purely a fluke that, one evening as he went into Tony's lab to ask if Tony had a part he needed, that he happened to catch a glimpse of a face he remembered all too well on the TV screen.

"Whoa!" Bruce lunged towards the screen. "Back that up! Tony, can you make JARVIS rewind that footage?"

"What? Yeah, yeah," Tony looked up from the Iron Man suit he was tinkering with. The footage was already running backwards.

"Stop. There." Bruce stared. It was unmistakably her. Shorter hair than he remembered, a little older, but that gentle smile was still the same.

"What's the problem, Bruce?" Tony finally noticed that Bruce was standing stock-still, staring at the TV. "Oh, them," he cast one glance at the screen and snorted scornfully. "Amateurs."

"You know her?"

Tony looked up finally. "What her? I was talking about Walter and his team."

"Right, we're talking at cross purposes. I mean _her_." Bruce walked close to the screen and pointed. JARVIS helpfully put up a white circle around the woman's figure.

"No. Huh. Don't know her, she must be a new recruit." Tony narrowed his eyes at the screen. "I know _him_." He pointed at one of the two men in the centre of the picture, the younger of the pair. The older one looked like a government agent – FBI, SHIELD, some alphabet soup agency. The younger man, probably early thirties, was handsome in the same kind of way as Tony, dark and intense-looking, moving his hands as he spoke, although right now he was frozen on the screen. The woman Bruce had pointed out was in the background, looking on, watching the two men with that gentle smile he remembered so well.

"So who is he?" Bruce prompted when Tony appeared about to get lost in his work again.

"His name's Walter. Walter O'Brien," deciding Bruce obviously didn't plan to leave without some answers, Tony sat down on his lab stool with a huff. "He's a fucking smartass."

"Ah," Bruce sat down uninvited on another stool. "He's smarter than you. No wonder you don't like him."

"He is _not_ smarter than me. So maybe his IQ is technically higher, but seriously?" Tony pointed a finger at himself. "Built the first Iron Man suit IN A CAVE out of SCRAP while being held hostage by TERRORISTS. Him?" he pointed at the screen, letting out another disgusted huff. "We're the A-Team, right?" Tony didn't wait for Bruce's response. "Walter and his little crew of so-called super-geniuses – they're the fucking F team. They get called in when the rest of us are just too fucking busy or can't be bothered because, you know, alien invasions and trying not to let the world get blown up."

"So – he's an amateur?" Bruce frowned. "Because it looked to me like that news story was about his company preventing a nuclear reactor meltdown that could have caused the city of LA to become Chernobyl, the US version."

Tony just shrugged. "He's just fixing bullshit that was someone else's responsibility. Told you. They don't even bother calling us in for that kind of shit. Walter's cheap in comparison."

Bruce just sat. Chewing on his lip. Wondering what SHE was doing as part of that team. She'd been on the run from the government ever since they found out she'd helped him. They had to know who she was, that suit at the front was federal for sure. Had she told them the truth, that she hadn't laid eyes on him for over ten years? Would they assume she couldn't be used as leverage over him?

Tony, finally alerted to the fact that there was something going on with his Science Bro, as he liked to call Bruce, propped his chin on his hand and stared. "You'd better spit it out, Brucie. Who's the woman? She's pretty…"

"MINE," Hulk said through Bruce's mouth, and Tony fell off his stool with fright, scrabbling backwards towards the door.

Bruce closed his eyes and began mediative breathing. After a few long moments he felt able to open them again, and saw Tony sitting on the floor half in, half-out of the lab doorway.

"Would it be wise for me to leave?" Tony asked warily.

"No danger," another voice said, and both men jerked around to see Clint hanging by the knees from an air vent, a gun in each hand, both of them pointing at Bruce. Bruce recognised them as the tranquilliser guns he'd personally helped develop to control the Hulk and then given to Barton and Romanoff. Even a glancing hit from either gun would put the Other Guy to sleep if he got out.

"Will you get down from there, Barton? What is it with you and lurking in ceilings?" Tony barked.

Clint did an acrobatic little flip to land on his feet on the floor, guns never wavering from their target. "Actually, I was having a nice little sleep when you two started arguing and I heard a voice I'd rather not have."

"Sorry about that," Bruce said a bit sheepishly. "I, er…"

"I heard Tony describe a woman you appear to have some interest in as 'pretty' and I think right now Stark is composing an apology to Hulk which says he only meant to compliment your taste and has no interest in the woman himself, right, Tony?"

"What Legolas said," Tony agreed, getting up off the floor and returning to his stool. "Incidentally – why the fuck are you sleeping in my ceiling?"

Clint sheathed one gun, though he kept the other out. "I don't like it when people know where to find me."

It was a sad indictment of their lives that both Bruce and Tony understood exactly where Clint was coming from and immediately pretended nothing had been said.

"Okay," Tony turned back to Bruce, "I meant no offense or anything, you know that, right? You _and_ the big fella? I appreciate women aesthetically but Pepper's got me well locked down, you have to know that by now."

Bruce nodded. "I know that, but Hulk's a bit possessive over Paige, apparently."

"That her name?" Clint sheathed the other gun, now it seemed apparent Bruce was well in control, and walked over to the screen. "Tony's correct, she is aesthetically pleasing, and you _know_ I mean that in the purest form of artistic admiration, since Nat would cut my balls off if I did more than look at another woman."

Bruce grinned, as always amused by the strange relationship between the archer and the assassin. Tony just leapt in mouth first as always.

"Yeah, Katniss, we heard her threaten you that time you checked out Sue Storm's ass. She has got you so pussy-whipped."

Clint slowly turned to look at Tony. Arms folded, showing off his massive biceps, he raised one eyebrow and smirked. "You're just jealous she wasn't interested in turning you into her bitch."

"Fuck, I really hate the way he does that!" Tony let out a screech, and made to storm out of the lab. Then turned and pointed at Bruce. "So – what? What's with this Paige chick? Does Hulk want her? I can get her here. Offer her a cushy job with SI. Or Robin Hood here can go kidnap her for you."

Bruce hesitated. Pointed at the Fed still showing on the frozen screen. "I'd be interested in knowing what she's doing with O'Brien and his crew. And who this guy is. The last time I saw Paige, she was on the run from Ross's goons because she helped me. Helped Hulk, actually. If they know who she is – are they going to try and use her to flush me out?"

"Would it work?" Clint asked as Tony started talking to JARVIS, asking him to run the Fed through facial recognition and known association with Scorpion.

Bruce sighed, eyes still on Paige's gentle smile. "Probably. She was quite a woman. Even Betty Ross was afraid of Hulk, but Paige seemed to see right through him." He settled down to tell Clint the story while Tony worked.


	2. Guys Like You

**Chapter Two**

_Ten years earlier, a small town in northern Wyoming_

He'd been running for so long. Exhausted and weary, Bruce stumbled into the small town, praying that this time, there wouldn't be soldiers and tanks waiting for him. He was done. He needed food and sleep, in that order, or the Hulk was going to make an appearance and just take whatever the fuck he wanted. Again.

Bruce had learned cunning in the last year on the run. He checked quietly around town until he found a large house, the back door wide open to the yard, the sound of someone doing the vacuuming upstairs. A handbag stood on the kitchen table. He rifled it quickly, swiped half the bills he found there and was gone, a swift, shabby ghost. The house was big enough and wealthy enough the owner would probably never even notice the money was gone.

At the town's single small diner, he placed an order for a very large breakfast with a pretty young brunette waitress. She brought coffee without prompting.

"Thank you, no, I prefer tea," he held his hand out to stop her pouring.

"Sure thing, hon. Regular or herbal? I have chamomile, or mint if you prefer." She smiled at him, sweet and innocent.

"Chamomile would be lovely. Thank you so much." He realised, when he saw her take a packet from her handbag behind the counter, that she was dipping into her own supply for him, and resolved to leave her a generous tip from his purloined funds.

The breakfast was excellent and filling, the pretty waitress – Paige, her nametag said – attentive, making him fresh tea when he finished the first pot, bringing out more toast for him. When he sat back at last with an exhausted sigh, sated for the first time in he couldn't remember how long, she slipped into the booth opposite him. Blinking, he realised he was the only customer left in the diner. The breakfast rush was obviously over.

"Sorry, you must want to clear up. My check?"

"Don't worry about it," she waved a hand. "My Uncle Joe owns the place. He reckons guys like you need one on the house every now and then."

"Guys like me?" Bruce stilled, confused.

"Folks who've been through too much. Not just men. We get women and children sometimes. It's in their eyes, that they've reached the end of the road, lost their belief in humanity. Uncle Joe says he went to that place after Vietnam, and it's the little things, the random acts of kindness from a stranger, that was what brought him back. So. Your meal's on the house." She gazed at him from gentle eyes, and he couldn't suppress the small sob that tore out of him.

"Oh. Hey, hey, please, don't cry. It's just breakfast." Paige reached out and put a gentle hand on the shaking man's shoulder. He might have been handsome, once, she thought, before life tore him down. He was too thin and there were strands of grey coming in his fluffy dark hair and thick beard, even though he couldn't be over thirty. "Look, do you have somewhere to go?"

He shook his head a bit desperately. "You need to stay away from me. I'm dangerous to know."

"You don't look dangerous." Paige prided herself on being good at reading people. "Do you mean me any harm? Anyone in town here any harm?"

"No, but…"

"Then it's settled. My uncle's actually away at the moment for a couple of days so I'm in charge of the diner. There's a little apartment upstairs, though no one lives there right now. You could get washed up and get some rest while I find clean clothes for you. With Joe not here we're a bit short-handed. I was planning to drive to Gillette tomorrow, pick up some supplies. I could use a hand."

More kindness, from a woman who couldn't be much out of her teens. "I – I can't let you do all that for me. You should be more careful."

"Sugar, I'm not inviting you to stay at my place. Just a couple of days. Take those ghosts out of your eyes." She took a key from the pocket of her apron and slid it across the table. "There's a door around back. I'll go to Joe's, find you some clothes that should fit. If you wake up in time, there'll be a rush around six o'clock tonight and I could use an extra pair of hands." Soft eyes twinkled at him, and then she was on her feet, sweeping his dirty crockery into her hands. "My name's Paige, by the way. Paige Daniels."

He couldn't give her his real name. Couldn't risk it. He hesitated, and her eyes softened still further. "Shall I make one up for you? Robert. You look a bit like a Robert."

"Thank you," he said a bit hoarsely, wondering how she'd managed to guess the first name he never used because it reminded him of his father. Well. It didn't matter. Any name would do.

"You're welcome, Robert. Go on now." She nodded at the key. "I'll leave some clothes outside the apartment door in about half an hour."

The apartment was small and basic – probably intended as accommodation for the cook, if required. But there was a shower with hot water and a cake of soap, and a couple of threadbare towels in the cupboard. Even a bed, a single with a thin mattress and a couple of very elderly blankets. Bruce had the feeling that he wasn't the first person Paige and Uncle Joe had done this particular favour for, and felt a sudden lump in his throat. _The random kindness of strangers_. Was that all the good he had left to look forward to in life?

He'd come out of the shower and was towelling himself dry when there was a knock at the apartment door downstairs. He froze for several long minutes, but there was no further sound, and when he went cautiously down to look, he found a bag on the doorstep. A couple of pairs of sweatpants, well worn but clean, three T-shirts in similar condition and a thick woollen peacoat. The coat looked too good to give away and he resolved to press Paige to take it back. Until he found a note pinned to the collar.

_Found this at the Goodwill. Thought it might fit you. They have good boots there too if yours are worn down, let me know your size._

In the bottom of the bag were three pairs of rolled-up socks and a small plastic bag with a toothbrush, toothpaste and even a disposable razor and a half-empty can of shaving cream.

Random kindness of strangers, indeed. How could he ever repay _this_?

Paige looked up as the bell over the diner door tinkled; it was only just before five and too early for anyone to want dinner. For a long moment she didn't recognise the darkly handsome man standing just inside the door. Then her mouth dropped open.

"Robert!"

"Paige," Bruce smiled a bit bashfully. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"I didn't even _recognise_ you!" she came across the diner, put her hands on his cheeks and turned his head from side to side. "Good God, you were hiding movie-star good looks under all that scruff!"

He actually blushed, his cheeks turning ruddy, and she smiled. "All right, all right, I won't embarrass you any more. Come on, I'll introduce you to Eileen, our cook. Tonight's Wednesday, which means Eileen's famous meatloaf, which means more customers than we can handle in a little while. Can you make drinks while I handle the tables?"

"As long as you walk me through the coffee machine," Bruce agreed, following her.

Eileen turned out to be a middle-aged, motherly woman, who insisted Bruce had time to eat a portion of the famous meatloaf himself before the rush started. He'd eaten in many a fancy restaurant in his time but honestly nothing had ever tasted as good as that meatloaf, sitting at a counter in a tiny diner with Paige beside him.

Paige introduced him to customers as "Robert, just helping out while Uncle Joe's away" and the steady stream of local townsfolk who passed through the diner that night smiled and nodded to him, though a number of the men glanced from him to Paige with watchful eyes. Bruce was careful to keep his expression neutral whenever he spoke to her.

Finally the night was over and Paige flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED. She paused for a moment, hands on her hips, and then came over to the counter where Bruce was just wiping down the coffee machine.

"Thank you so much for your help tonight. Wow, we were real busy."

"You got pretty good tips, too," he smiled, nodding at the jar on the counter half-filled with notes and a few coins.

"Not bad," she tipped her head assessingly. "Well, it's a third yours."

"What? No!"

"Hell, yes. You worked just as hard as Eileen and I tonight. I can't pay you because I don't have your real name or your Social Security number, which I'm sure you're not going to give me. I'll trade you bed and board for a wage. But this, this you earned."

Eileen was counting the money in the till, having cleaned the kitchen. "You can walk me to the bank night deposit box too, young man," she said over her shoulder. "Joe normally does it. It's on my way home, but you can walk back here afterwards."

"Thank you both," Bruce said inadequately.

"Here," Paige pushed a plate his way. "I saved you a piece of pie."

Oh, God, he'd had his eye on the pie all night. Apple, cherry and lemon chiffon, they'd all looked wonderful, slice after slice going out to the diners and plates coming back almost licked clean. "Which one?" he asked hopefully.

"Lemon chiffon."

"You are a queen among women," he told her quite sincerely, grabbing the fork she put down beside the plate. Paige blushed, and Eileen let out a laugh.

"You're an astute man, Robert. Finish off your pie and let's go."

He walked her to the bank, half expecting a lecture about keeping away from Paige, but Eileen said nothing, just waved him off once they'd made the deposit. He wasn't having any of it and insisted on walking her all the way home, even though it was only a couple more blocks. He arrived back at the diner to find Paige just locking up.

"Night, Robert!" she called cheerily.

"Wait, wait, let me walk you home." He came up beside her.

"You needn't, it's fine," she smiled up at him brightly.

"Tell me, does your Uncle Joe let you walk home alone at night?" he asked, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"Well," she looked at her feet, "no."

"And since I'm standing in for Joe I'm not letting you walk home alone either. Let's go."

It was obvious he wasn't going to back down, so Paige shrugged and started walking. She didn't live far away, four blocks, and he walked quietly at her side the whole time.

"Well, this is me," she said as they stopped at the little walk-up. "Thanks, Robert."

He looked at her seriously. "While it would be best for you to keep calling me that in public," he said quietly, "I'd like you to know that my name is Bruce."

"Bruce," she tried it out, smiling, "you look more like a Bruce than a Robert, how silly of me. Thank you for trusting me with that, I promise I won't tell anybody."

"Thank you," struck by a silly impulse, he picked up her hand and kissed it gallantly, "Queen Paige."

The sound of her laughter hung softly in the air as he walked back down the street.

**Hope I didn't make Paige sound too angelic here – but honestly this strikes me as just what she would have been like as a slightly younger woman. She's very gentle and kind.**

**And poor Bruce – who could not have taken pity on him?**

**Please let me know what you think by clicking in that great big empty reviews box!**


	3. He's Nine

**Chapter Three**

_Avengers Tower_

"There's a Paige listed as employed by Scorpion Consulting," Tony said then, "but her name is Paige Dineen, not Daniels."

"What?" Bruce snapped out of his reverie and almost lunged across to Tony to peer at the screen. "_Dineen_? Seriously?"

"Yes – why, does that mean something?"

"Robert Dineen was the alias she and Joe Daniels made up for me. Old Joe was a sharp cookie, paranoid like plenty of Vietnam Vets. He knew I wanted to stay off the grid and he helped me cook up a few documents. I got by on them for almost a year, longest I had off the books on a single ID."

"You stayed there in Wyoming all that time?" Clint looked surprised.

"No. I was there less than a fortnight." Bruce looked down, as though he could hardly bear to think about it. "I hadn't wanted to stay that long – but there was something about Paige. I didn't want to leave."

"Woman like that could ruin all your plans," Clint murmured sympathetically.

"I _had_ no plans but running. I knew I couldn't stay. Knew General Ross was hunting for me." Bruce gulped. "I'd spent the night at Paige's house. We were walking back to the diner to open up for breakfast when a helicopter appeared over the trees and put four rockets through the windows."

"Jesus!" Tony and Clint both recoiled.

"Joe and Eileen were both inside. They never stood a chance. Ross's men would have assumed I was asleep upstairs – that was, uh, the only night I hadn't spent there."

Even Tony was considerate enough not to say anything crude at that point. "Did you Hulk?" he asked instead.

"Amazingly, no. Probably because Paige was clinging to my hand, screaming. I had to get her out of there and if I'd Hulked Ross would have known I wasn't dead and probably razed the whole fucking town to the ground. We took to the forest, hiked down to Gillette, hitched a ride down to Colorado where she had friends. And then I left her, for her own safety. Told her to change her name and disappear, stay under the radar. She knew how, I'd taught her everything I knew."

"So she never actually met Hulk?" Clint questioned.

"No, but I told her about him. She had the right to know. Two people she loved were murdered because of him."

"From what you've said about her, I'm willing to bet she didn't see it that way. And I have the feeling she probably wasn't too fucking happy you abandoned her, either."

"It was for her own safety," Bruce insisted. "If Ross had any inkling that I gave two shits about her, he'd have taken her and held her over me for ever. Bad enough that he eventually won Betty over to his way of thinking. If Paige had ever looked at me with the disgust I saw in Betty's eyes the last time I saw her – well, I think I'd have tried even harder than just the bullet in my mouth that one time. A volcano, maybe."

"Bruce," Tony said then. "I don't think you're the only person who just recognised her on TV."

"What do you mean?" The icons and symbols appearing on Tony's screen were gibberish to Bruce, but Clint sucked in a sharp breath and sat down, starting work on a screen of his own.

"This is military chatter. Suddenly picked up, asking about Scorpion and about the 'unidentified female standing with Walter O'Brien' quote unquote. It originates from General Ross's command."

Bruce's skin prickled. And then he almost went cross-eyed at Clint pointing a gun at him from a range of about four feet.

"Hulk," Clint spoke directly to the green in Bruce's eyes, "I know you're worried about Paige. But if you take over right now _you will slow us down_. We've only got one chance to get to her before Ross does. So stand down, big guy. Right now we need Bruce's brains, not your brawn."

And to Bruce's astonishment, he felt the Other Guy pause, consider Clint's words and then back down to sit, quietly waiting, in the corner of his mind.

"We're good," Bruce said after a moment.

"Excellent." Clint put his gun away, barely blinking, and looked back at the computer screen. "Tony, why don't you call O'Brien? Tell him to get Paige, and anyone else he gives a fuck about, out of there now. Give him a place for pickup. I'll take the jet and go get them myself. I'll call Hill. She used to outrank Ross, even now I reckon she'd give him pause."

Both Tony and Bruce stared at Clint, impressed. The archer rolled his eyes without even looking at them. "Me, tactician. You, scientists. Me do my job. You do yours. Stark, call O'Brien!"

"What do you want me to do?" Bruce asked quietly as Stark picked up his phone and told JARVIS to get him a number for Scorpion.

"You gotta stay here. We already know Ross won't tangle with Stark's lawyers. He wants Paige because he thinks he can use her to force you to give yourself up. So you need to stay here, out of reach, and trust me to bring her to you safe."

"Not here!" Bruce said instantly, "don't bring her here. Find out what she wants and set her up somewhere quiet and safe. Get Stark's lawyers to cut a deal between Ross and the Scorpion guys because they won't know where she is anyway."

"Your call," Clint leaned back in his chair, looking at him assessingly. And then they both looked at Stark who had started shouting into his phone.

"Look, O'Brien, you and I don't get on but this is IMPORTANT!"

Clint sighed, plucked the phone from Stark's hand and said "Am I speaking with Walter O'Brien?"

"Yes," a low, angry voice said. "And who are you?" He had just the faintest hint of Irish in his voice.

"I am one of the Avengers. You might know me as Hawkeye. O'Brien, I _know_ Stark is a dickhead; I have to work with him. Believe me I understand why you might not want to believe a word he says. But please listen to me because this is _really important_. When Paige's face appeared on the TV news tonight, an alert went off in the office of a very dangerous man. They will be coming for her, and anyone they think they might be able to use to get to her. Which means you and your team. You have to get out of there, right now."

Clint heard Walter start to give a few quick, muffled orders. And then he came back on the line.

"Why Paige?"

"Because she could be used to compromise one of the Avengers. I am sure you understand why that would be a bad thing."

"Is this about Ralph?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know who Ralph is."

"Paige's son."

Clint froze up completely for a moment, staring at Bruce, and then he held one finger up to Bruce and Tony and left the lab, closing the door behind him.

"Say that again, O'Brien."

"Ralph is Paige's son. Is this about him?"

"How old is he?"

"Uh, he's nine, I think."

Ten years ago, Paige and Bruce were together – _oh, fuck_. "I didn't know about Ralph's existence until just now, but yes, it's very possible he's in serious danger too. You need to get them out of there, and right the fuck now, O'Brien, along with everyone you give a shit about. But not your Homeland Security buddy. Leave him out of it, give him plausible deniability and he might just stay alive. The rest of you need to run for it."

"What the fuck d'you want me to tell Paige? She's not here right now, I've sent one of my people to pick her up while the rest of us pack what we can't leave behind…"

"Tell her it's about Robert Dineen. Tell her that he's alive and he's a lot more important than she could ever have imagined. And tell her that I will meet you forty-eight hours from now, in the place where she first met him, okay? Leave all communications devices behind. I mean it. All mobile phones, tablets, the lot. The people who will be after you are very dangerous and very capable."

"Message received," O'Brien said after a long moment. "Forty-eight hours, Hawkeye?"

"You'll need the time to get there unobserved. I'll be there personally to bring you in, you've seen my face on TV, right?"

"Right," O'Brien said. "I have to go."

"Yes, you do. You don't have much time."

Clint hung up on O'Brien and headed back into the lab. Tony and Bruce both looked at him bemused, and he nodded at Bruce.

"They're on the move. I told them I would personally collect them in forty-eight hours at the place where you and Paige first met, so you'll need to tell me exactly where that is."

Bruce nodded. "It was at the diner, which burned down but has probably been rebuilt by now. As a store if not a diner. The town is Moorcroft in northern Wyoming, just off the I-90."

"Okay. Tony? Can I see you for a minute? Sorry, Bruce, but there are certain details I want to keep compartmentalised for now."

Bruce shrugged. Clint was military in his thinking: he accepted that. A rescue was under way and he needed to trust Clint to manage it, especially since he didn't dare see Paige. Everything in him was screaming to go to her, rescue her, keep her safe; but if Ross was out there looking for him that might be the worst thing he could possibly do.

Tony followed Clint out of the lab and waited while the door sealed. "Okay, so what the fuck, Barton? You called me a dickhead to O'Brien?"

"Get over yourself, I told O'Brien what he needed to hear in order to want to cooperate with me. There's a major complication, Stark. Paige Dineen has a son, Ralph, and he's about the right age to possibly be Bruce's."

"That is a _really_ fucking major complication," Tony said after a moment. They both turned to look at Bruce, who was sitting back in his chair, staring again at the image of Paige on the screen. "Fuck. I can't believe I'm saying this, but bring them all here. Ask the woman when you pick them up if the kid is Bruce's, and let me know so I can break it to him gently."

Clint snorted. "You're worse at breaking things gently than Natasha. Better to let Paige tell Bruce herself, _if_ the boy is his. And just stay away from him in the meantime to avoid the temptation to blurt. Keep busy. Making Paige Dineen, or Paige Daniels, and her son disappear from every database anywhere is one of the best ways to keep them both safe."

"On it, Barton," Tony nodded to Clint, with perhaps just a touch more respect than he'd ever offered him before. The archer was a strange, quiet man, but he was obviously a lot smarter and more capable than Tony had given him credit for.

"Right," Clint nodded sharply. "I'm gonna go see Hill. We'll get onto the Homeland Security guy, Gallo. Keep him out of the picture while O'Brien disappears his crew and then use him to slow Ross down. Even Ross has to answer to Homeland Security. It wouldn't stop him if Paige was still present, but if the bird's flown the coop he can't just shoot first and ask questions later, not with Homeland Security involved."

"Fuck, you really are smart," Tony said admiringly, and Clint gave him a bit of a dirty look.

"Just because some people don't put their smarts out there for everyone to see doesn't mean they don't have them, Stark." And he turned on his heel and walked away towards the elevators.

Tony was suddenly reminded that Nick Fury had once described Barton as 'one of the smartest men I know'. The other person he had paid the compliment to at the same time was Erik Selvig.

"Huh," Tony said, mentally rearranging his worldview yet again, and went back into the lab to talk to Bruce.

**Can't resist a bit of Clint in my stories, sorry! Now obviously Bruce knows nothing about Ralph, so** **things are gonna get interesting…**


	4. He's Ralph's Father

**Chapter Four**

_Scorpion Consulting, Los Angeles_

"I don't _know_ exactly," Walter said exasperatedly to Toby, who was standing in front of him, watching him carefully. "But when two of the fucking Avengers call you and tell you to bug out, forgive me for thinking it might just be a good idea to _bug the fuck out_! Now grab whatever you can't live without. But anything with a SIM card stays here. If we're tracked, we'll be in serious danger."

"Ohhhh, what have you done now, Walter?" Sylvester almost wailed, his hands moving jerkily around as he stuffed things from his desk into a duffle bag.

"It wasn't me!" He sighed, tightened his lips, and said "It's Paige. She's in danger. Ralph too, maybe. We gotta go to protect her. Happy should be back with them in ten minutes and by then we need to be ready to go." He hesitated, thinking about the way that Hawkeye guy had sounded on the phone. "Don't count on ever being able to get back here."

"Paige?" Toby said incredulously, "how can _Paige_ be of concern to the _Avengers_?"

"Talk later _move_ now!" Walter finally lost his temper and gave Toby a push on the shoulder. The behaviourist narrowed his eyes at him, but must have decided to believe him, because he went to his desk and quickly started sorting through his things.

Walter ran up to his office and started grabbing the few things he didn't want to lose. Letters from his sister, his backup hard drives, the emergency cash he kept in the safe. The phone on his desk rang and he picked it up automatically.

"Scorpion Consulting Services, you're speaking with Walter O'Brien…"

"Good, so I'm reaming the correct person a new asshole," Cabe Gallo said briskly on the other end of the line. "Would you care to explain to me why Maria Hill has just ordered me to lie to a high-ranking general in the US Army for you?"

"I have no idea who Maria Hill is or what general you're talking about," Walter said wearily, having the unpleasant feeling that he was going to be saying 'I don't know' and 'I have no idea' quite a lot during the coming days. Walter _really_ didn't like not knowing things.

"Maria Hill is – well, she used to be the second-in-command of SHIELD, before it fell apart. Now she runs global security from behind the scenes working for Stark Industries. Even my bosses are afraid to cross her."

Possibilities raced through Walter's head, and he added several of them up and came up with a high probability of Tony Stark. "Oh, no. Jesus, Paige, I thought you had better taste! Cabe, I have to go. I'm sorry, but we have serious problems here. I can only recommend that you listen to this Hill. Even I don't know where we're going, yet. I just know we have to go."

Cabe's voice softened. "If there's anything I can do to help, Walter…"

"Keep whoever is coming after us off our backs." And Walter hung up, as usual forgetting to say thank you.

"Happy, what's going on?" Paige's plaintive voice reached his ears, and he slung the filled satchel over his shoulder and ran downstairs. Good, Ralph was with Paige.

"Get whatever you can't live without, you have three minutes," Walter told Happy, "no cellphones or anything with a SIM."

"What? Walter…" Paige looked at him, frightened, clutching Ralph close to her. "What's going on?"

He looked closely at her, wanting to see her reaction. "Robert Dineen."

She went white, clutching Ralph closer. "We have to go. Right now. Not three minutes, not one minute. NOW."

"You heard her, in the car!" Walter was never so relieved he'd splashed out with that first big paycheck and bought the big SUV. With seven seats, the six of them weren't totally crammed in. He got into the driver's seat and waved Paige in beside him, knowing Sylvester and Ralph would start playing travel chess in the back and with Toby and Happy immediately starting an argument in the middle seats, Ralph wouldn't hear anything.

They peeled out of the lot and drove away. Five blocks down the street, they passed a convoy of black SUVs going very fast in the other direction.

"Don't stop," Paige's voice wavered. "Not for anything. They'll kill us all."

Walter kept going, heading east, losing himself in the concrete canyons of LA. At last he pulled the car into the lot at a small convenience store.

"Get some food we can eat on the road," he handed a stack of bills to Happy. "No credit card. You and Toby go in, with Ralph, have him pick out some things he'd like. Try and play happy families."

Sylvester wouldn't go in with them anyway, but he leant over and shouted "Get some alcohol wipes!" after Happy as she, Toby and Ralph headed for the doors.

"No details right now," Walter held up his hand as Paige started to speak. "I just need you to tell me where we're headed. We have a pickup scheduled by some friendlies," he glanced at his watch, "forty-six hours and thirty seven minutes from now. And the only information I have on the location is that it is the first place you met Robert Dineen. And that we need to make sure we're not followed."

Paige sighed and passed a weary hand over her eyes. "We can't fly, then. Gonna be a long drive."

"To…?"

"Wyoming. Almost through to South Dakota. Make like you're heading to Rapid City."

Walter reached to punch the destination into the car's GPS, when Sylvester interrupted him.

"Uh, Walter, that might not be wise?"

His hand froze over the panel. "You're right. We'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Buy a paper map somewhere."

"I know most of the way," Paige said, "the first bit's easy. Head for Vegas."

"Perhaps we should ditch this car first?" Walter glanced at her.

"Probably," Paige admitted.

They waited until the others came out of the store with an armload of bags, and then set off again, headed west. Happy knew a mechanic in San Bernadino who could help them with the car, and it was practically on their route.

Two hours later they were well on their way towards Vegas, now driving a blue family wagon somewhat less conspicuous than the expensive SUV. Ralph had fallen asleep in the back and Sylvester was snoozing as well. Happy looked silently out of the window. Walter met Toby's eyes in the rear-view mirror, and Toby nodded towards Paige, who was sitting in the passenger seat with her arms huddled tightly around herself. Walter heaved an inward sigh. He was so not equipped for this.

"Can you tell us about it, Paige?" he asked. She jumped, like she hadn't been expecting him to talk.

"It might be better – safer – for all of you in the long run if I don't," she said finally.

"Why don't you let us be the judge of that?" Toby said quietly. "Who is this Robert Dineen, Paige? Your husband? Ralph's father?"

"We were never married. But yes, he's Ralph's father." She hesitated. "It wasn't even his name. I never knew his real name. I thought he must be dead by now. But if they're coming after me, after all this time – he must be still alive."

"I've been asked to tell you that he is still alive and he's a lot more important than you ever knew." Walter hesitated. "Paige – what the _fuck_ does this have to do with the Avengers?"

She went even paler and shouted "Stop the car!"

He screeched to a halt on the shoulder and she fumbled her seatbelt free, almost falling out of the door and vomiting on the side of the road.

"Do me a favour," Happy said, "and please don't ask her that question again."

**So did I get the team about right? Hope they're not too OOC for you!**


	5. Ralph Is The Son of Who?

**Chapter Five**

_A motel somewhere south of Salt Lake City, Utah_

It was almost morning when they found an anonymous motel and took rooms, paying cash and showing false ID from the emergency store Walter had kept stashed in his safe. Sylvester shuddered and begged them not to make him sleep there. Happy handed him a roll of garbage sacks and told him to cover everything up, and they left him to panic about germs.

Walter sent Toby to get some more substantial food for them. He and Happy watched as Paige tenderly tucked Ralph into bed, sitting on the edge of the bed and smoothing her son's dark hair lovingly. When Toby got back, they took the food into the adjoining room, which Happy had claimed, saying she was the best equipped to protect Paige physically (no one argued) and sat down to eat.

The coffee was terrible but the pancakes excellent, though Paige just picked at hers.

"You don't have to tell us," Walter said quietly in the end, once they'd all finished eating and just sat looking at each other uncomfortably. "But I'm not keen on being kept in the dark, for reasons you know all too well, and I think the others deserve to know why we've just been uprooted, possibly permanently."

"Oh, Walter," Paige's eyes were glassy with tears as she looked at him. He thought about hugging her and froze up. Fortunately Happy was more comfortable with tactile contact than he was and hugged Paige for him.

"Paige, it's okay. Really. Whatever it is, we're here for you. You're part of our team and we'll get through this just like we do everything else."

"What she said," Toby agreed, and even Sylvester nodded.

"Whatever we can do, Paige. I mean it."

"Thank you," she said, and then bit her lips. "But I don't think there's anything you can do. Not against these people. It's so awful, why now? I – I was just starting to think I might be able to _belong_ somewhere again…"

"You belong with us," Walter said firmly. "No matter what's happened. I wish you'd told me about Tony Stark, though."

Both Toby and Happy twitched. "_Stark_?" Happy said, astonished.

"What about Tony Stark?" Paige said, looking bemused.

"Isn't he Ralph's father?" Suddenly, Walter realised he'd made an error in his assumptions. Paige had said she thought 'Robert Dineen' was dead. But Tony Stark hadn't changed _that_ much in the last ten years – apart from the stupid arc reactor and Iron Man thing – and his face was on the cover of magazines all the time.

"_Good God, no!"_ Paige spluttered as the others all choked. "Where did you get _that_ idea?"

"An incorrect assumption. My apologies. Stark never gets involved in anything unless there is something in it for him, when he called…"

"_Tony Stark _called _you_?" Happy said, astonished.

"I do know him," Walter said, miffed.

"We know," Sylvester, Happy and Toby said in unison.

"Every time he's on TV or a magazine cover you start muttering under your breath," Toby pointed out. "I know Stark's an asshole. But he's one of _us_, a genius asshole. Beat me at cards once in Atlantic City. And then tossed the pile of chips at me on his way out the door," he told the rest of them. "Asshole."

"Look, let's get back to the point," Walter said. "Tony Stark rang me and started in his usual obnoxious way, throwing out orders that made no sense. Then someone took the phone off him and said he was Hawkeye. One of the other Avengers." He looked closely at Paige, but she just shrugged.

"Don't know him either."

Walter went on to explain what Hawkeye had told him, and then they all looked expectantly at Paige. She sighed, drawing circles of maple syrup with her fork on the plastic plate in front of her.

"I wasn't sure until now. But a long time ago, I met a man in serious trouble. I think – well, if the Avengers are involved – I think he might be the man who turns into the Hulk."

They all stared at her in silence. And then turned to stare at the door into the room where Ralph slept.

"_Ralph_ is the son of the _Hulk_?" It was Toby who recovered his facile tongue first.

"Please tell me Ralph doesn't also turn into a rampaging green giant rage monster," Sylvester said weakly.

"No! Well – I don't think so. He never has!" Up until that moment, it had never even occurred to Paige that it was possible. But then, she'd never seen Ralph get angry. He wasn't that sort of kid.

"Fantastic. Just fantastic. How far have we got to go, again? You are aware that I have no personal courage whatsoever?"

"Shut up, Sylvester, this is _Ralph_ we're talking about. He's still your friend. And he's still just a kid who needs our help!" Toby stood, walking away from the table, scrubbing at his hair with agitation. "All right. So now we know. They're after you and the kid to use against the Hulk. That's what Hawkeye meant by saying you could be used to compromise one of the Avengers."

"He doesn't know about Ralph."

"Oh fantastic, a whole new bucket of worms," Happy muttered.

"I'm more concerned about who the mysterious '_they'_ are who are after you," Walter cut off the muttering.

"Robert told me it was the military. A guy named General Ross. It was – they tried to frame Hulk for some things he didn't do, take him into custody. They've been hunting him for years. Ten years ago Ross's men put four rockets through the windows of the diner where they thought Robert was. Killed the only family I had left," Paige looked down at her hands, twisting them together, trying to stop their trembling. "If Ross gets his hands on Ralph…"

"Not happening," Walter said firmly. "We are not going to let that happen, right, team?"

They all nodded, even Sylvester looked more determined than scared, for once.

"Okay. So here's what we're going to do. We're going to split up. Happy, we'll need another car, and a couple of burner phones. Ideally, trade the car for two smaller, cheaper ones, but steal something if you have to. We'll be out of state and long gone by the time they come looking. Then I want you and Toby six hours ahead of us. Get to the location and scout it out before we get there." He handed over the car keys and half the cash remaining in his wallet.

Happy got up, jerking her head at Toby, who followed her out without saying a word.

"I need to catch a few hours sleep," Walter said, "because Sylvester doesn't drive and right now, Paige, I don't think you're in any condition to. Happy and Toby can switch off driving and resting but I need to rest now. And so do you."

Paige followed Walter's instructions – she was getting used to it, now – and finally managed a couple of hours of restless sleep, curled protectively around Ralph in the uncomfortable motel bed.

Walter woke her a few hours later. Happy had been her usual efficient self and even brought a change of clothes for each of them, along with a cheap mobile phone that had one number programmed into it, and an elderly Nissan Maxima. She and Toby had gone on ahead, sending texts every 30 minutes to check in.

"I can drive for a while," Paige told Walter once they'd been on the road a couple of hours, Sylvester and Ralph absorbed in a chess game in the back seat. "I'm okay."

"If my eyelids start drifting, you can have a turn," he glanced sideways at her with a slight smile. "Okay?"

"Deal," she said with a sigh.

"And in the meantime, read the map," he dropped a book of maps into her lap. "I calculated the shortest route and also the most efficient one, but they're theoretical calculations and your local knowledge may affect the parameters…"

Paige smiled, opening the book. Walter was sounding more like himself with every passing minute. She was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, between his formidable intellect and the help of the Avengers, she might just be able to get Ralph somewhere safe.

**So – maybe Walter wouldn't have made the wrong assumption about Tony Stark. But it was too damn funny not to write in, and maybe Walter was a little bit blinded by his horror that Paige could have had that bad taste…**


	6. Trust Hawkeye

**Chapter Six**

_The Diner_

The only thing Toby and Happy had reported back was that there was absolutely nothing going on in Moorcroft. They'd gone into the diner – it had been rebuilt as a diner, Paige was glad to hear – and eaten a meal, listening to the locals talk, and there was no mention of strangers in town, the Army being in the district, or anything like that.

Now, they sat in one of the cars, watching the front of the diner from across the street. Sylvester and Toby took Ralph for a walk, leaving Happy, Walter and Paige to watch.

"Six minutes," Walter murmured, checking his watch, "I think he's early."

They all watched the man walking along the street, his gait casual, yet he was quite clearly alert to everything going on around him. He looked very normal, tan leather jacket, jeans and boots. But his hair was fair and military-short, his eyes covered by dark glasses, and the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones matched the photo Happy had pulled up on her new phone.

"Definitely Hawkeye," Happy murmured. "Real name unknown."

The man hesitated before going into the diner. Looked straight across the street at them. Inclined his head very slightly.

"He's made us," Walter said. "Damn, he's good."

"I don't think they'd let him be an Avenger otherwise," Happy snarked.

Paige was already out of the car and crossing the street. The man waited for her outside the diner door.

"Paige – Daniels?" he said softly.

"I might be. Where is he? Where's Robert – Bruce, I should say?"

"New York," he slipped off the sunglasses, revealing piercing steel-blue eyes. "Avengers Tower. Is the boy his son?"

Paige bit her lip, and Hawkeye nodded, as if she'd actually spoken. Paige sensed Walter coming up behind her and turned to him.

"O'Brien. I'm Hawkeye." He offered a hand to shake, which Walter ignored. Hawkeye didn't seem concerned about it, just bringing his hand comfortably back to his side. "I have extraction waiting for you."

"To…?" Walter queried.

"Avengers Tower. Right now, there is nowhere else we can guarantee Paige's safety. And yours, until Stark's lawyers thrash out a deal to make Ross stay away from you. Even then, you'll need to be careful. Ross is the kind of man who will take and torture one of you to flush out Paige, and then use her to get to Bruce."

They were almost back to the car where Happy waited when Walter and Paige realised Hawkeye had been guiding them subtly the whole time.

Paige froze. "How do we know we can trust you? You could be leading us into a trap."

"I could. But I have a message for you from Bruce." He held a fancy Starkphone out in front of her, and when she took it in her hand the screen lit up to show Bruce's face.

"Paige, I'm so glad to know that you're alive and seem to be okay, and I'm sorry I've brought this on you. You can trust Clint – Hawkeye – he will take you to a safe place and make sure you're all right." He looked so _tired_, Paige thought, studying the man on the screen. The silver was a little thicker in his dark hair, and he looked a lot less starved than the last time she'd seen him, but ten years hadn't changed him much. His smile was still the same, fleeting and wary, though his eyes seemed more serene than she remembered.

"I wish I could come see you myself, but with Ross on the warpath it won't be safe for you. Take care, Paige. And trust Hawkeye."

The screen flickered off, and Paige looked up at the tall man beside her. "Clint?"

"Clint Barton, my real name," he swept her an exaggerated bow. "Rescuer of damsels in distress and hunted geniuses everywhere."

Paige couldn't help but smile. He wasn't classically handsome, but he had an interesting face, mobile and clever, and those eyes were extraordinary.

"Wait," Walter interrupted. "Did he just say he couldn't see you himself? I thought you said he was at Avengers Tower? Which is where you're taking us?"

Clint flicked his eyes from Walter to Paige. "Bruce doesn't know about the boy. I – we felt it was better for Paige to tell him herself."

"Thank you for that," she said quietly. "I wouldn't want him to hear it from someone other than me."

Clint nodded slightly. He was looking at Happy, who was peering sharply at him though the car window. And then his head snapped up and he stared at the two men and the boy walking along the street towards them.

"Jesus." _The boy was a mini Bruce_. Clint turned to stare at Paige. She looked away, knowing what he had seen. "Come on, then. Let's move."

Hawkeye had an invisible jet. _An. Invisible. Jet_. Paige couldn't help but laugh as both Walter and Happy turned green with envy, as Clint pressed a button on a remote in his pocket and the jet suddenly shimmered into view in the small clearing he'd set it down in.

"What is _that_?" Happy almost screamed.

"It's a Quinjet. We stole it from what was left of SHIELD, and then Tony modified it so it's better. Faster, tougher, more invisible." Clint grinned, showing them inside. It was fitted out with a couple of long benches on either side, with seats to strap in. It looked like a small airborne troop carrier. And then Clint squatted down to Ralph's eye level.

"Hey, buddy, I could use a co-pilot. Want to come sit up front with me?"

"Yes," Ralph said immediately, and at a gentle nudge from Paige, added "Please, Mr Hawkeye."

"Come on, then. Let's get you strapped in. Your mom can come and see where you're sitting before she has to put her own seatbelt on for safety, yeah?"

He was really good, Paige allowed. He'd managed to put Ralph at ease and assuage her own anxiety with a few well-chosen words. During the flight, she could actually hear him teaching Ralph about flying the complicated jet.

"How long is this flight going to take, Barton?" Walter yelled impatiently. "Can we take our damn seatbelts off yet?" They'd been in the air about forty minutes.

"No, we're coming in to land!" Clint called back.

"What?" they all leaned forward, trying to get a view out of the front window. Paige could indeed see skyscrapers.

"We can't possibly have covered that distance in that time, it's _eighteen hundred miles_!" she said incredulously.

Walter sighed and sat back. "I long ago learned the hard way that _impossible_ and _Tony Stark_ are mutually incompatible terms."

The jet landed delicately on the flat roof of an extremely tall tower, and Clint came back, urging Ralph gently in front of him.

"How do you want to play this?" he asked Paige quietly.

"Privately," she said softly, "can I go somewhere private and quiet with Ralph and you bring Bruce to us?"

"I'll take care of it."

She gave him a grateful smile as the ramp lowered. A tall blond man was standing at the foot of the ramp, and Clint started forward.

"Steve, you're back, excellent! Has Tony filled you in?"

"Yes," Steve's eyes fixed on Ralph, and he gave Clint an expressive look. "New family members, I understand?"

"And friends." Clint waved towards the Scorpion crew, shuffling awkwardly down the ramp. They looked crumpled and weary.

It was Toby who made the connection first. "My God, that's Captain America!"

"Steve, please," he held out a hand with an awkward smile. "At least when I'm not in uniform. Please, come with me. We have some very comfortable quarters prepared for you – I'm terribly sorry about all this inconvenience, but please be assured we'll do everything we can to make sure you have everything you need, all you have to do is tell JARVIS, he's the Tower AI…"

"Stark really did build in an AI? Wow. Did he not learn anything from the Terminator movies?" Walter shook his head.

Steve just looked blank and gestured towards the door that led inside the Tower.

**LOL, of course he doesn't know about Terminator, Walter!**


	7. Reunion

**Chapter Seven - Reunion**

_Avengers Tower_

Paige followed Clint, who was holding Ralph's hand. Clint was obviously Ralph's new hero after inviting him to be co-pilot of that impossible jet. The broad-shouldered archer led them into the building, to an elevator, and instructed something called JARVIS to take them to the eightieth floor.

"There's a comfortable, uh, I guess you could call it a common room there," Clint told Paige. "It's restricted to team members – Avengers, that is – and their guests. Nobody will bother you there while you and Bruce talk. I'll see to it."

"Thank you," Paige said. "For everything. You've been so kind."

One corner of his mouth quirked and he tipped his head slightly. "Bruce is my friend. I – would like to see him happy."

Which implied that Bruce wasn't happy now, Paige thought, as Clint showed them into a very comfortable room, several couches spread about, big-screen TV's hanging from the ceiling. A large wet bar. She cast a censuring glance at the Avenger who only raised an eyebrow back at her.

"Plenty of soft drinks there. And snacks in the refrigerator if you want anything. Please make yourselves comfortable, I'll be back in a few minutes."

Paige found Ralph a soda, and he immediately sat down and started eyeing the game console handsets strewn on the coffee table. One of them lit up invitingly and Ralph reached towards it, glancing at Paige.

"I'm not sure if you're allowed, honey…"

"Excuse me, Ms. Dineen," a softly modulated English voice said, "All games on the system that Ralph may access are approved for his age level."

"You're JARVIS?" Paige asked a bit nervously.

"Yes, Ms. Dineen, I am. Should you require anything, you may speak my name aloud and I will respond; otherwise I do not monitor any Tower occupants unless specifically requested. Would you prefer that I continually monitor Ralph and his whereabouts for you? He will not be able to leave the Tower, and I can then instantly apprise you of his location on your request."

"Thank you, yes," Paige said, a bit surprised, but realistically she _would_ want to know where Ralph was at all times, and this Tower seemed like a big place. "All right, Ralph, you can play for a while."

Paige watched as Ralph started playing one of his favourite games, and then she felt a little restless and moved over towards one of the big windows, looking out at the spectacular city view. Stark Tower – Avengers Tower, now – was the tallest building in New York, she knew, and she must be very high up in it because she was looking down on every other building in view.

The elevator chimed, and Paige turned to face it, her hands twisting nervously in front of her. She didn't realise that with the light at her back, anyone coming through the elevator would only see a blur instead of her face.

Clint came out first, looking over his shoulder and speaking sharply. "Banner, I don't ask for much. But you need to get in here."

Banner? Was that his real name? Bruce Banner? She'd seen it before, in scientific journals. Sylvester had mentioned the name once as some genius physicist who'd rewritten some major theory that had revolutionised his field… Paige's brain stuttered to a halt as a familiar figure stepped out of the elevator.

_He'd hardly changed at all_, was her first thought. A few more threads of silver in his dark fluffy hair. More muscle packed onto his lean frame. He was wearing nice clothes, a pair of black dress pants and a chocolate-coloured button-down shirt that looked expensive. She just stood there frozen, staring at him.

"Clint," Bruce said in irritation, "what the hell is all this about?" And then he saw the boy sitting on the couch. "Who is this?" The kid looked up, staring at him. Bruce frowned, and Paige realised she couldn't let them get off on the wrong foot.

"His name's Ralph, Bruce," she said, stepping forward. "He's my son. And yours." She'd spoken to Ralph during the long car journey, explaining that his real father was in danger and they might see him. Ralph had never asked many questions about his father. The only one he'd asked then was;

"Is he like me and Walter?"

"Yes," Paige had replied, knowing that he meant to ask if his father was a genius. "But – he might be a little better at talking to people than you are sometimes."

Bruce certainly wasn't talking now. He stood, staring from her, to Ralph, to her again, back to Ralph. Paige smiled. Ralph was so obviously their son, with Paige's beautiful eyes but Bruce's firm mouth and face shape. Put the three of them in a room together and anyone would pick them out as a family.

Barton was still lounging against the wall by the elevator, obviously sticking around in case this little reunion turned ugly. Glancing at the frozen, open-mouthed Bruce, he quirked a slight grin at Paige and then headed over to Ralph.

"Hey, Skylanders, my favourite!"

Ralph gave Clint a considering look and then pushed a controller towards him. Clint picked it up and launched into the game with every appearance of enthusiasm, leaving Paige and Bruce to keep staring at each other.

"My son," Bruce said flatly after a few moments, approaching closer to Paige and lowering his voice so they wouldn't be overheard. "He's my _son_?"

Paige nodded, choking up. "I _would_ have told you, but I didn't know I was pregnant when you left. I didn't know your real name, where to even _start_ looking for you. All I knew was that if anyone ever found out, both Ralph and I would be in danger…"

"Hush," Bruce couldn't help himself. He stepped closer and lifted a gentle hand to Paige's pale cheek. "I wish I'd known, but I certainly don't blame you."

She bit on her lower lip in that way that had always made him want to kiss her, and he scrutinised her face carefully. Ten years had changed her from a pretty girl into a seriously beautiful woman, willowy and graceful. "How've you been, Paige? Has it been tough?" He turned to look at the boy on the couch. "What's he like?"

Paige melted at the look in Bruce's eyes, the wistful longing. "Ralph's a great kid," she said. "Brilliant, he got his brains from you. He has trouble communicating sometimes. It's been better since I joined Walter's team, they've been helping me to understand him."

"Ah, that kind of genius," Bruce said understandingly. "Yes, that was me as a kid too. Got better when I got to Culver and found people operating on my level."

Paige smiled. She'd known he would understand. Bruce was still the same man she'd known; kind, easy to talk to. Handsome. She tried not to think about that too hard, but the reality was right there in front of her. Perhaps she'd been drawn to Walter because he reminded her of Bruce, a little. Same fluffy dark hair and intense eyes.

Bruce took a deep breath. "I understand now why Clint brought you here. Are the rest of your team here? I'd like to meet them. Their lives have just been thoroughly screwed over because of me and they deserve to understand why."

Paige's smile widened. "Yes, they are. You'll like them. Uh, they went off with Captain America."

"I see," Bruce's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back at her. "Would you be okay leaving Ralph here with Clint for a little while? Obviously I want to get to know him, and I'd very much like if – well, we can have that discussion later. But Ralph should get comfortable here first, and Clint is awesome with kids."

Paige glanced across the room. Ralph appeared totally relaxed with the archer as they chose new characters to put on the portal in their game. "Okay. I'll just tell him we're going for a little while." She crossed to Ralph and crouched down so that he could look at her if he wanted to. "Ralph, I'm just going to check that Walter and the team are okay, all right? Would you like to come with me, or would you prefer to stay here and play the game with Clint for a while?" She glanced at the archer, who smiled and nodded reassuringly.

"Stay here," Ralph said, eyes intent in the screen.

"That's fine. I won't be too long, and when I get back we'll get something to eat, okay?"

She got no response, but she hadn't particularly been expecting one. Rising, she turned to see Bruce staring at her and Ralph with an expression of undisguised longing. She looked away shyly, blushing again.

"This way," Bruce gestured towards the elevators, and she walked past him. He spoke to JARVIS to determine which floor they should go to, and then stepped into the elevator beside her.

**Sorry I've been neglecting this one for a while, been too busy with other things! I will be finishing it off soon though, promise!**


End file.
